The Cruelty of a Child
by Boyue
Summary: China finds young Russia on the front lawn with a dead cat. -Young!Russia/Oneshot-


_APH and its characters © Hidekaz Himaruya_

_Characters: Young!Russia and China_

_Rated T for violence and a dead cat. D:_

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**THE CRUELTY OF A CHILD

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"What are you doing?"

Yao paced toward the young Russian squatting on the grass lawn. Ivan turned his head; the tail of his scarf moved across the moistened green blades like a tired snail. Yao stepped forward until he could see what Ivan's board body was hiding. He gasped – quiet and surprised – at the corpse of the neighbor cat. Its snow-white fur was dotted and striped with crimson.

"I didn't kill it," Ivan said softly. He gazed up at Yao; the corners of his eyes dragged down. Enough to almost look like a frown.

And Yao had no reason to think that Ivan was the culprit; unless the boy had acquired fangs and claws for ripping the cat's stomach open. It must have been the dirty work of a wild dog. From the brightness of the blood and the lack of decaying flesh stench, Yao deduced the poor thing was taken not long. It had probably fell victim overnight while taking a leisurely stroll.

Yao kneeled opposite of Ivan on the grass. He looked at the lifeless cat; he could see the stomach and the intestines through the large wound. He pursed his lips, finding the smell of blood too much to bear. He turned to Ivan. The boy's eyes were glued to the cat's organs. Yao trailed his eyes downward. A pang hit him when he spotted speckles of blood on Ivan's brown gloves; the fingers, in particular, were dipped in red. He glanced at the grass surrounding the gush; their blades were smeared with blood. He had a good idea how the blood got on Ivan's hands.

"Ivan," Yao spoke.

"I didn't kill it," Ivan interrupted. His eyes left the cat and affixed on Yao. His brows curved; his lips sank downward. The gloves groaned as he grinded his fingers against each other.

"Go back inside," Yao said, soft and gentle.

He leaned forward and scooped, as carefully as he could, the cat's body into his arms. He contemplated if he should bring the bad news to his neighbor or bury the body to save them the heartache. A missing cat was better than a dead cat. He adjusted the cat, turning it so he wouldn't see into the messy organs. He stepped around Ivan, having decided that he should return the body so the family could decide what to do.

"You don't believe me," Ivan's voice sounded. He still crouched on the ground. The lines on his forehead were accentuated by his heavy frown.

Yao paused and thought for a moment. He knew Ivan didn't kill the animal but he shouldn't shrug off the feeling of uneasy or the thought that Ivan wasn't entirely guiltless.

"I believe you," he responded. He turned his back on the Russian and walked away from the house.

Ivan stood. He dashed toward Yao; the two ends of his scarf fluttered like wings. He grabbed the cat by its neck and pulled it out of Yao's arms. Before Yao could react, Ivan threw the limp corpse toward the street. The cat bounced once and rolled twice before it stayed motionless on the hard road. Its insides splattered the pavement red like a spilled paint bucket.

Yao stared at the mess; a mixture of disgust and disbelief seized his face. He tore his gaze away and turned over to Ivan next to him. The boy's fists clenched tightly by his side; his body was stiff and erect. Amethyst eyes glowed with anger and hurt.

"I didn't kill it," Ivan said. His voice was low – a final declaration. But the glisten of his eyes and the quiver of his lips told otherwise.

Yao blinked. He casted a last glance to the cat before he looked down at his chest. Thin tendrils of blood meshed with the pattern of his clothes. The white of his sleeves were stained. He looked to Ivan again, briefly studied the blood on the gloves, and gave a nod.

"I know," Yao said, blameless.

He took hold of Ivan's hand and led the boy back toward the door. Ivan cupped his other hand over their intertwined fingers and squeezed their hands hard.

Yao squeezed back. The blood felt cold to his skin.

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**THE END.**

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_Boyue's Note: Weird story is weird and lame title is lame. That's all. Is Ivan a tyrant or just a cruel kid? D:_

_05.28.09_

_3:01 AM  
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